Kindling
by Xekstrin
Summary: The Ice Queen goes to Fionna to settle some doubts.


**A/N: **Venting I'm not venting you need to shush

**Trigger Warnings: **Self Harm, questionable/unhealthy D/S relationships, Simone and Fionna flipflop between hearts and spades way too much and tHAT SHIT GETS CONFUSING /end homestuck reference

**OoOoOo**

"So how's the knee holding up?"

A rainfall of tinkling clay and porcelain filled the otherwise silent tree house. Whirling around to see who the intruder was, Fionna's hand flopped around behind her in the kitchen sink, whipping out the first pointed object she could grasp and brandishing it with a snarl.

Upon seeing who it was, however, her emotions did a strange somersault. The Ice Queen was perched upon her kitchen's windowsill, one knee drawn up to her chest. She was incognito- or as incognito as someone like her could manage- the blue royal gown replaced by a short indigo dress. The summer breeze drifted in, cooled by passing Simone's chill body and carrying her scent along to prickle at Fionna's mental guard. On instinct, Fionna breathed in deeply. Internalizing the crispness of pine needles, cold northern winds, maybe even the twang of salt from the half-frozen seas that marked the western border of the Ice Kingdom. Of course, if she knew how much those smells would impair her judgment, she wouldn't have done that. As things stood, though, the sensation launched her once-placid mind into a full blown tumultuous whirlpool.

Suds plopped onto the floor from her soaked arms, counting each second of silence. Another breeze blew in; Simone quirked her head to the side, a questioning grin asking Fionna if she should leave.

The girl tossed the dirty kitchen knife back into the sink behind her, reaching down to rub at the brace around her left leg. Recently dislocated, it was far from being 100% better, but there was no way she'd share that with Simone. "Knee's fine." Curt, short. "You're lucky Cake isn't here."

"I don't rely on luck," Simone responded, unfolding her legs and sliding inside Fionna's house, heading towards the girl without missing a beat. Had she timed this to make sure they would be alone? How well _did _Simone know her schedule?

Best lock that thought away in the vault as well.

Blue eyes flicked down, quickly and quietly approving of Simone's soft leather boots, their heels clacking on the creaking wooden floor. Fionna wasn't fashion conscious in the least, but it was hard to not admire Simone's taste in shoes. It had reached the point where she felt a fluttery squeal build inside her each time the Queen wore a pair she was particularly fond of. Trying to play it off as a cough, Fionna briskly turned back to the dishes, scrubbing at the stubborn, clinging grease and dirty utensils. Simone stood behind her, close enough to feel her chill the air. Close enough to touch, yet choosing not to.

"What, is this only acceptable when you're the one barging into my palace uninvited?" asked the Queen, setting her hands on Fionna's hips, killing the space between them till her chest was flush against the girl's back.

Tongue-tied and swelteringly red from the summer heat and the steam wafting up from the busy sink, Fionna just scrubbed harder at the dishes. "No," she said, tossing the clean plate on the rack to dry. "...Maybe," she corrected, gasping upon feeling one hand move up to tighten around her neck, the aching cold seeping through her skin. The sweat that didn't immediately evaporate crystallized into a powder-fine ice, crackling and falling away to vanish around her feet. Her breath wavered, half in fear and half in anticipation. "A-ah- I don't... know."

The faucet squeaked. Simone turned it off, taking the dish rag out of Fionna's hands and tossing it aside. "I'm going to have to demand that you pay a little more attention to me," she said, as though Fionna was capable of noticing anything else. Simone pushed her forward, hitching up her skirt and lovingly tracing her nails against Fionna's outer thighs. They left a trail of icy goose bumps in their wake, long red lines converging at the dampness that was already beginning to form between Fionna's legs. Her voice hitched, a sub layer of harshness in the whispers she breathed into Fionna's ear. "We don't have the luxury of time on our side today. I'll leave soon after I'm done here."

Simone's long fingers firmly pressed against her, sliding along the growing wet spot that seeped through her underwear. The dishes clattered again as Fionna's hands slipped on the slick, sudsy counter, grasping for purchase, pleased susurrations barely kept in check by her teeth clenching down on her lower lip. This wasn't how things normally went. Fionna didn't always get off from their encounters so much as she was relieved by them, her stress escaping through fresh cuts and bruises like pent-up steam whistling out of a ruptured pipe.

She didn't want to say it- "_Simone_." - but it came out anyway and she bent over the counter, the steam heating up her face as the cold body molded against her back, freezing her sweat as it formed. Shivers rose and rolled along her body; the secure grip around her throat constricted the blood flow to her head, each pulse pounding in her ears in a fierce tattoo.

But then the pressure on her knee twisted in just the wrong way.

"Ow! Fuck, _stop_."

Heels clacked as Simone stumbled backwards, looking down to see Fionna crouching, hands over her injured knee. Teeth clenched, she hissed from the white hot zings traveling up her leg in lightning bolts, eyes popping open, pupils constricting. Even then, it shot a throb of pleasure through her, having long since learned to associate pain and pleasure with Simone's presence. It was perhaps hypocritical of her to not want this particular ache, but again, such thoughts didn't make it far before getting slammed back into the vault. If she examined it too closely, she'd see just how much her desire for pain was more a method of control than she wanted to admit.

"It's not that I mind..." she found herself explaining without pausing to wonder if Simone even cared. "But if I don't stop messin' with it, it'll never heal." Scowling, she wiped her sweaty cheek on her shoulder, looking for a distraction from having to think even more about this.

"You and your knee injuries," Simone said, deceptively soft as she cupped the girl's face in her hand, making her look up from fixing the brace. It brought relief, a cool touch better than any breeze that came through her kitchen window, and Fionna sighed and leaned into it, eyes closing. Predictably, though, there was an ulterior motive: Simone snaked her fingers under the hem of Fionna's hat, letting it flop back to hang around her neck. The felty fabric made a distinct sound when being discarded by curious hands, a sound that was becoming all too familiar to the girl. "Up," she said.

Fionna shook away the thoughts, disoriented from too much stimuli- Her knee, the melting snow on the back of her neck, the body that was too close to hers. "Excuse you?"

"Up," Simone repeated. "Up on the counter, Snowflake, let's take a look at it."

Something burned in the pit of Fionna's stomach, a wriggling fire monster hotter than the summer day. "You're doing it again," she said, wishing she could spit out the feeling the way she spat out her accusations. "Pretending to be nice." It snapped out of her like a spark, but it didn't catch fire. Unperturbed, Simone just wrapped her arms around her waist, lifting her onto another part of the kitchen counter that wasn't covered in suds. It was effortless; she didn't even exhale with the movement. An awful feeling twisted inside her again, a current of electricity too timorous to be labeled as just indignation at being treated like a little doll. Simone was saying something about her brace, and how having something dislocated even once tends to leave one susceptible to it happening again and-

"Hey!" She grabbed Simone by the wrist.

There weren't any pupils in Simone's eyes. No way to see if the woman was even looking at her straight on or still focused on Fionna's knee, clawed hand hovering just over it, waiting for permission. Fionna wasn't sure why she'd stopped Simone, just that something about being injured in front of the woman sent her hair on edge and set her scars to aching. It stank almost like infidelity, but worse- like Simone would think she was in charge now, that she could just do whatever she wanted under Fionna's roof, that she had some claim to her that wasn't there before. "Just because I've got, like, this stupid cast thing on... Fuck." Fionna finally settled for a low tone, full of threat as she pulled Simone closer, making _sure _their eyes were locked. "It... I... This doesn't mean that I can't completely and totally destroy you if you pull anything funny. Do you understand?"

Even though experience had taught her she'd have better luck looking for answers in a snow bank, she would always return to Simone's expressionless white eyes expecting something new. Perhaps some small part of her hoped these regular encounters would enkindle a flame, a beacon in the mountains, some sort of guiding light to navigate the otherwise barren terrain. Lost without landmarks, she nevertheless kept searching, heart in her throat.

"...I understand," Simone said, her head turning down again. Fionna let her go; she checked the brace, making sure it was fastened properly and tight enough. "Or at least, I'm beginning to."

No way could she decipher that. But as her eyebrows bunched together and she set her hands on the counter, ready to push herself to her feet and hobble away to the living room or bed room or somewhere more comfortable, Simone stopped her. "This might seem a little cliché, but..."

Hands splayed on either side of Fionna, she bent over, lips sucking on a patch of exposed thigh. A confused "oh" escaped as Simone moved downwards, the top of her wild white hair all Fionna could see as she pressed a frigid kiss on the girl's long-suffering knee. It felt better almost at once, much to the girl's surprise and disgust. Stiffening at this ignominy, she mussed her hand into Simone's hair, pulling her back sharply. "You're gonna try kissing it better?" she asked, shaking Simone's head from side to side. "_Really_?"

Simone twitched free, snapping at Fionna's fingers. Fangs clicked on empty air as the girl whipped her hand back to safety, looking rankled. "If I didn't know better," Simone snarled, frown lines deepening on otherwise smooth skin, preserved just on the edge of youth and maturity by magics unknown. "I'd say you're being an ungrateful brat, Snowflake. Putting ice on a wound is supposed to help."

"You didn't have to _kiss _it, though," she insisted, crossing her arms under her ample chest, daring Simone to change the rules that seemed to have formed between them in these encounters. Whoever owned the grounds they met on was the one who held the cards, the one who made the orders, and the one who had the power to flip the tables.

That didn't seem to dissuade Simone, though, who was beginning to chafe under Fionna's treatment of her. "Fine. Maybe you'll like _this _better." Clasping onto Fionna's knee, Simone smiled, but that was never a good clue as to what was going on in that brain of hers, her dead white eyes betraying neither kindness nor cruelty. A gush of magic spilled out of her palm, surprising a scream of pain out of Fionna as the cold wave seemed to split her bones in two.

Curling up, she diverted the urge to sock Simone across the face into grabbing the woman and pulling her as close as she could. It pulsed in agony; Fionna's nails raked across pale blue skin, pulling down Simone's dress to bare one shoulder to her teeth. Until the spell faded and Fionna's mouth tingled with Simone's magic-heavy blood, she hadn't even realized she was biting her.

"You know..." Simone's fingers were under her skirt again, tugging down her underwear to reach what she wanted, cold digits a shock to the heat dripping from Fionna's wet folds. She spoke in a lecturing tone, as though Fionna weren't struggling to breathe right, clasping at her shoulders, the fabric of her dress bunched up in her hands. "If you keep this up, you'll wear your joints down to shreds by the time you're thirty."

Desperate wasn't the most flattering adjective, but the most accurate considering Fionna would agree to just about anything that meant Simone wouldn't stop her slick pleasuring. Her thoughts were scattered, the only thing able to leave her was a murmured, "Uhm... Peeg..."

Simone's teeth clicked shut, whatever she was about to say lost in her clenched jaw. A subtle tremor ran through her, one that Fionna wouldn't have noticed if they weren't pressed up against each other. For the first time she saw something in her endless white eyes, a spark of fire in the snowy expanse. It felt like a flinch of fear. "_Don't_." She pulled away completely, hands limply in front of her, suddenly dirty. "...Say his name when I'm inside you." Her lip curled up in distaste.

It took Fionna a while to respond, eyes narrowing in concentration. Disassociated facts stringing together slowly, new information binding them together. Another puzzle piece loudly sliding into place, another layer added on top of every confusing, conflicted thought she'd ever had about this relationship. When she realized Simone was actually waiting for her to explain herself, she shook her head to try and whip aside the cobwebs clouding up her mind, slapping her palm against her forehead over and over. "No, no, no. I mean..." She didn't owe Simone any sort of truth. Did she? What had the woman really ever done for her, besides _not _kill her when she had the chance? Meeting the basic standards of human dignity wasn't exactly reward-worthy.

But still she felt bad. Unfaithful, recreant, adulterous. Those words haunted her thoughts today, associated always with her feelings for Simone. "...I _mean_," she said, "Or what I was trying to say if you woulda _listened_. Is. I'd get him to make me metal legs, if I need 'em. At the rate I get breaks, I'm going to need a pair eventually."

Dreamingly fascinated with the shimmering, elusive twists of emotions in Simone's eyes, Fionna could hardly remember a time mere minutes ago when she couldn't see how expressive they really were. If you just knew how to look at them, they revealed as much as you were willing to uncover. Once you see the answer to a riddle, it's hard to notice anything else.

She lowered her hands onto Fionna's lap, leaning on her, trying to cover up her embarrassingly heartfelt emotional outburst with a blanket of ice. It doesn't work, and Fionna gleefully suspected Simone was unaware of that. "An interesting solution," she said through gritted teeth. She doesn't believe her, but Fionna isn't wrapped up enough in this situation to feel the need to convince her. Not yet, anyway.

"They'll get messed up even more if you keep touching them," Fionna reminded her, linking their fingers together, occupying both her hands in an intimate gesture she wasn't used to, but still desired.

A blue flame lit up on Simone's palm, licking at the shiny residue of Fionna still on them. It burned bright and cold against the girl's skin, cast a shadow on Simone's face, chilled the still-steaming summer day. "But you like it."

Eyebrows knit, Fionna said, "No." Then she shook her head again. "Yes? I don't know."

All the conflicting answers just seemed to amuse her, rather than frustrate her. "So which is it?" she asked with a toothy shark grin. And she kissed her. Gently. Too gently. Not gently enough.

Gripping a handful of Fionna's knee, Simone dug her nails in tightly. The flaming blue light crawled up her injured knee to soothe it, leaving a slug-like trail of frost in its wake as it proceeded to travel up Fionna's numbing body. "Augh... I can't be consistent when you're not consistent. One or the other. I can't focus on both," she mumbled around her cold lips. She held the woman arms-length again, making sure she hears her. "Pretend to be nice if you want to, but stick to it. I can't keep up when you're zigzagging around."

Turning her eyes upward, she watched the woman weigh her options. A jagged smile; Fionna's muscles tensed at the prospect of feeling the frozen fury she was so addicted to. Simone's fingers curled around her throat again and she leaned forward, lifting her chin to give her a better grip. But she just pulled the girl into another kiss, letting her groan into her mouth as she easily slipped past Fionna's underwear, continuing where she had left off. Legs wrapping gingerly around Simone's waist, she gasped at the soft touches exploring her warmth, sapping away all her heat.

To be honest, she hadn't expected Simone to take this route. Even when the queen sank down, bracing herself on the kitchen counter to flick her cold tongue against her inner thighs, Fionna was preparing for another grating shift in gears. But there was none- the talons didn't sink into her, the sharp teeth were careful not to nip too hard at Fionna's most sensitive spots, no biting taunts boiled her blood. Simone's lips curled around her, sucking lightly, tongue flickering out. Cold played with the heat, earnest mouth causing Fionna to twitch and shake, feeling a burning explosion building up inside her to fight against the spreading chill. Something about that mental image, the idea that this was just another sort of battle, excited her. A chunk of ice that had been sitting on her knee started melting as her temperature rose, sliding down her calf to collect at the arch of her bare foot and drip onto the kitchen floor.

Her tremors loosened more ice, the puddle on the floor drip, drip, dripping in the suddenly silent kitchen. Even the cicadas outside stilled and slowed, leaving room for Fionna's voice to whimper and choke out at last, "Don't stop S-_Sim_-" Teeth clamped down on pink flesh; Fionna brought her fist to her mouth, biting down hard on anything she might say. Stars erupted behind her closed eyes as she twisted and writhed in Simone's hands, dying down as her pleasure ebbed and faded.

Just as she had promised, Simone left soon after that.

Not as creaky and sore as she usually felt when Simone was done with her, Fionna didn't return to washing dishes for a while. The water evaporated in the summer heat, her freezer burns thawed and her blood hummed a happy, constant tune in her head. Filled with adrenaline, chemicals, addictive properties, a little taste of magic. Whatever.

Just like all the other times, once she waited long enough it seemed like her encounters with Simone were just a dream. Nothing real, or anything to be worried about. But when she finally slipped off the kitchen counter, fussing over her disordered clothes and getting back to the chores she had abandoned, a growing dread in her heart let her know that they couldn't keep this relationship a secret for much longer. These meetings were tinder, piling up around them, burying them deeper every time.

"Hot enough to cause a wildfire in here," Cake noted later when she returned from her errands, fanning herself with the end of her tail. Fionna only _mmm'_d in agreement, staring out the window, wondering which secret would catch fire first.


End file.
